


Wayward Son

by flights_of_fancy



Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alister is Ratchet's sad gay dad, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Everything A Goddamn Ordeal In Area Family, Family, Friendship, Running Away, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-23 12:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flights_of_fancy/pseuds/flights_of_fancy
Summary: The moment he found Kaden’s son on Veldin, Alister vowed to do whatever it took to keep him safe.He needed to be protected.Years later, Ratchet Azimuth embarks on a journey across the stars, desperate to prove him wrong.





	1. A New Life

**Author's Note:**

> hello i’m here to deliver a niche au for a game that released a decade ago.

**Year 5344**

  


Alister stared at the planet outside his window, unable to believe he was actually there. 

Veldin. 

His search was almost over. 

Alister heard about the appearance of a young lombax boy in Solana almost two years ago. When he discovered it was Kaden’s son, he took off of Torren IV and never looked back.

He flew to the Solana Galaxy, travelling from planet to planet. He rarely ate. He rarely slept. He refused to rest until he found him. He was always overcome with joy to hear even the smallest sliver of information about the young lombax.

It was a week ago on a small moon where he was able to figure out where to go. He visited a bar where a gambler talked about a stop he took at the Kyzil Plateau. A fuzzy, big-eared little menace stole his star cruiser after hot wiring it. Though the gambler never mentioned his species or age, Alister was confident in the menace’s identity. The technological smarts, the reckless impulse, the fuzziness. If those weren’t telltale signs of being Kaden’s son, he didn’t know what was. Kyzil was the place. He needed to go to Veldin.

Now, here Alister was, in his ship, watching Veldin grow larger and larger as he flew towards it.

Alister glanced at his pocket watch on the the seat next to him. A sad smile formed on his lips as his eyes traced over the picture of him and Kaden. The dream team.

After the Tachyon business, their friendship was shaky. He and Kaden spoke less and less. Alister knew he had let him down, but he felt like there was nothing he could do to fix everything. The last he saw of his old friend was during the attack on the lombaxes, where he refused to take refuge in the court. 

He wouldn't go without his family.

Alister hated to admit it, but part of him was relieved that they lost touch before he could be “Uncle Alister”. Seeing Kaden with his wife was difficult enough. His best friend’s happiness was so important to him, but he couldn't shake the pain that came whenever he saw him hold her, kissing her. Alister visited them after Kaden’s wife gave birth. He saw how he glowed with pride as he cradled his newborn. He had only seen him that happy after he won the battleplex tournament. Distressed, he left before he could even find out the baby’s name. The image of their perfect little family just reminded him of what he could never have.

Alister tightened his grip on the wheel, shaking his head. 

That didn't matter now. 

Kaden’s son was out there. The boy would need someone to take care of him. Someone to look up to. And now that he knew the kid was alive, Alister was determined to be the one. He had to be there for him.

He would raise him the way his father would have wanted. He wouldn't let Kaden down. Not again.

He was driving into the planet’s atmosphere at this point, the world forming around him. 

When Alister landed, he stood by his ship for a solid minute, taking in the new environment. It was hot, arid. It reminded him of Fastoon. He continued to walk through the land. Every once in a while, he would see a ship come down to pick up fuel or some cheap food, but no one ever stayed for long. Veldin was far from Polaris, and, save for the few passing travelers, it seemed to be fairly lifeless. Kaden was smart to hide his son here - Tachyon and anyone working under him wouldn't think to pay a visit.

Alister went to a garage where a fongoid mechanic was fixing up a ship. He had a feeling that he might know the whereabouts of the fuzzy, big-eared menace. The mechanic sighed, explaining that tools and parts would often go missing. There were often campsites and lone wanderers just outside the plateau. He suggested checking there. 

So Alister rode his hoverboots around the wilderness of Veldin. The land stretched to the horizon, covered with sand, rocks, thorn bushes, and the remnants of old ships. He searched for an hour before he came across a trap on the floor. Then another. And another.

He dropped a stick onto one and watched as it shut with harsh intensity, snapping it in half. These traps were held together with rubber bands and gum, yet they worked like a charm. Kaden’s son had to be close.

He followed the traps all the way to a small campsite. Alister kept his distance, peeking past tall thorn trees. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

There he was. 

The lone little lombax, sitting on the sands of Veldin, gazing up at the stars while eating a small loaf of bread.

The first thing Alister noticed was that the boy was incredibly thin. Even from a distance, that was clear. He wondered if that piece of bread was the only meal he had that day- if you could even consider it a meal. The poor thing didn't have the means to take care of himself- not enough food, not enough water. Alister wished he could have found him sooner. 

He took a look at the makeshift house the boy sat in front of. An old lombax warship. Probably from ages ago, when Veldin was a colony. Seeing extra material added to it, Alister could tell the boy made modifications. He let out an amused chuckle. You can take the boy out of Fastoon, but you can’t take Fastoon out of him. 

He felt his heart pound as he prepared himself to talk to the boy. Deactivating his hoverboots, he walked closer to the campsite. 

Suddenly, Alister yelped, feeling a sharp clasp around his foot. He glanced down. The kid was really good at making traps. 

_ Painfully  _ good.

“Who’s there?” The little lombax said, his voice shaky. He picked up the small metal pole he kept beside him.

Alister tried to pry his foot loose from the trap. He grunted as the trap’s hold grew tighter.

The little lombax’s ears twitched at the sound. 

He fled the scene.

“Wait!” Alister called out after him, but the little lombax failed to hear him. He pulled again, and the trap came out of the floor, still firmly clasped around his foot. “I want to help you!” As he ran after him, the sound of metal clanging followed. He peeked behind him to see a chain trailing after him, leading back to the hole where the trap originally hid. Alister followed him as far as he could before the chain became taut.

Between ragged boulders, Alister saw a campsite. A man and a woman were sharpening daggers around a billowing fire. His breath hitched as he watched the young lombax turn the corner and stop right at the edge of the site. The two looked up at him, holding their blades low.

“Hey there, little fella.” The woman rose from the crate she sat on. She towered over him. The little lombax began to creep away.

“Hey, now, why are you in such a rush?” The man took him by the shoulder, walking him over to their rusty, worn down ship. “Don’t you want to meet the rest of our friends?” He gestured to its side, adorned with fur pelts. 

Alister started to tug at the chain, his unease turning to panic.

The man ran his fingers through the swatches. “A kerchu... A cazar…” 

“We could always use another friend.” The woman placed a hand on the nape of his neck.

His eyes wide, the little boy darted away. The man picked him up by the ears before he could escape. He desperately swung his pole at them, but the man gave him a hard shake, causing him to drop it.

“Lombaxes aren’t around anymore. Their fur’s a rarity.” The man gave out a cynical laugh. “Tell me.” He turned to the woman, “How much do you think lombax would sell for?” 

The woman brandished her knife with wide grin. “I hear they cost a whole galaxy.”

“No, no!” The little lombax protested, flinging his arms at the poachers. The woman drew closer, and Alister’s eyes widened, his heart racing.

Activating his hoverboots, he yanked the chain free from the ground with all his might. “Leave him alone!” He swung his omniwrench high into the air before slamming it onto the poacher woman. 

She was out in an instant.

The man flung the little lombax to the side. Time seemed to stop as he struck the floor, face down. He lay motionless.

Alister froze.

The man yanked the chain on his leg, taking the lombax down. As Alister picked himself up, the poacher hopped into his ship. It began to hover, and the pelts that decorated it slid off. Alister held his omniwrench up, pointing it at the ship, still low in the air.

He would  _ not _ get away with this.

Alister fired a blast, narrowly hitting its wing. Tilting from the damage, the ship continued on. He blasted it one more time, striking the front. His eyes followed as it began to dive back to the ground below.

Hearing it crash nearby, Alister started up his hoverboots, chasing after the sound.

He found the poacher’s ship completely wrecked- its hood shattered, the remains catching fire. The man was trapped under a piece of gnarled metal. 

“You’re not gonna kill me.” The poacher looked up at him weakly. It was almost a question. 

Alister looked at the wreckage. The flames were beginning to pick up. The engine wouldn’t hold.

“No.” He turned his back on the man. “I’m not.” 

Alister walked away, not flinching when he heard an explosion from far behind him.

Returning to the campsite, he quickly glanced over to the young lombax on the other side of the site. Knocked out but still breathing. Alister let out a deep breath, relief washing over him.

He passed by the poacher woman on the floor, the dying campfire illuminating her limp frame.

In Polaris, Kaden’s son would be at Tachyon’s mercy. He would be in constant danger. But looking at this poacher- looking at the smoke of the wreckage in the horizon, Alister was convinced that it was inescapable. 

Even Veldin had its share of danger.

Still, thinking back to the plateau, it was the best chance the young lombax had. Kaden brought him here for a reason. He needed to stay. He would just need to be protected. In that moment, Alister decided he would do whatever it took to keep him safe. 

He would start by giving this boy a proper home.

He noticed that little lombax was beginning to stir where he lay.

“Hey, kid.” He came closer, his voice tender. Standing above him, Alister realized just how small he was. “Are you alright?” 

“‘S okay, mister.” He replied, trying his best to hide a sniffle. Propping himself up the elbows, he brushed away the dust on his fur. “I don’t want-”

The young lombax turned around, and a soft gasp escaped him. 

“You’re... You’re like me.” His eyes twinkled in awe. He rose from the floor, extending a hand. “Name’s Ratchet.” Alister kneeled down, meeting the boy’s large, curious green eyes with his own. If he had any doubt that this was Kaden’s son, it was all gone then. He took Ratchet’s hand, giving it a firm shake.

“My name is Alister Azimuth.” For the first time in a long while, he smiled. “And you, my dear boy, look just like your father.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a hot minute since I’ve played the games. I brushed up on the lore a bit, but there are definitely going to be some inconsistencies. Let’s just call it “A Re-imagining”, eh?
> 
> Anyway…
> 
> The only thing I could think of when writing the ‘Alister fucks up some poachers’ scene was Bioshock. Whenever a Big Daddy saw a splicer mess with a Little Sister, it was game over, man.
> 
> Young Ratchet had BRE (Big Rey Energy). I had to resist the urge to make him put on an oversized starship helmet as he ate his bread.
> 
> Putting the little guy in legitimate, non-cartoony peril was the most painful thing to write. He’s tiny! He doesn’t deserve that! I’ll try to stop being an edgelord for the rest of the story, I swear.


	2. Still Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raising a kid is hard, but growing up in Space Barstow is even harder.

**Year 5354**

 

An excited grin grew on Ratchet’s face as he peeked out the window. It was barely the crack of dawn; he actually managed to wake up before Alister did. 

Draping a blanket over the largest pillow on his bed, he tried his best to bundle it up to a Ratchet sized lump. Next, he set an open book on top of it, face down. The young lombax tapped at his chin with a doubtful look before ultimately tossing it to the side. Alister would never believe that. He laid down a holofilm case in its place. Why would anyone lay in bed with a holofilm case? Scrunching his nose, he cast that aside, too. 

Less was more, Ratchet decided. The bare blanket worked the best.

He placed his wrench on the bedside table, opting to leave it behind in order to make this scene realistic. He could just borrow one from the garage, anyway. 

The young lombax took a step back to evaluate his handiwork. He had to admit that the pillow-under-blanket technique looked incredibly unconvincing, but, hey- it was his first time trying to sneak out. This is just how they did it in the holofilms. 

It’s not like Alister would have time to thoroughly check that he was there; he was almost always in a rush in the morning. He would probably take one quick glance into Ratchet’s room just to make sure he was okay before heading off.

Alister wouldn’t even realize that he left without his permission.

Guilt settled deep in Ratchet’s chest as he realized just what he was doing. He hated that he would have to go behind Alister’s back, but it was a necessary evil. 

“The Micron won’t build itself.” He muttered, slipping his gloves on. If he told him his plans now, Alister would quickly shoot them down. But if he could just show him, if he could prove that he could be independent, then maybe things would be different. 

He peeked out his bedroom door. 

The coast was clear.

He ducked out of his room and tiptoed down the stairs. Creeping towards the front door, his eyes began to light up. He was so close to freedom.

“Good morning, Ratchet.” 

“Alister!” Ratchet turned to see the older lombax sitting in the kitchen. By the looks of his finished breakfast on the counter, he had been up for a while. “You’re up early today!”

“I got a call out of the sector.” He explained, his face neutral.

“So…” Ratchet sparked up the small talk, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “What’s it today? Scavenging in the outlands? Water maintenance?”

“Pest control.” Alister replied, rising from his seat. “Mr. Lanbright’s yard is swarming with horn toads.” 

“Oh, man. Again?” The young lombax forced a chuckle, “That’s concerning.” 

“It sure is.” He steadily made his way to Ratchet. “But right now, I’m more concerned with why you’re  _ heading out the door _ .” 

Alister now stood in front of him with arms folded over his chest. Maybe it was time to tell him the truth.

“I’m going to the garage.” 

Well...

He wasn't exactly lying.

Alister eyed him skeptically, “You don’t have work today.” 

Ratchet shrugged, “Grim could always use the help.” 

Technically, not a lie.

“So the one day of the week you have free,” Alister spoke slowly as if he were trying to make sense of the situation, “You’re going to spend it working.” 

“What? Is that so hard to believe?”

“Ratchet, you won't even clean your room when I ask you to.”

“Okay, okay. You got me.” He placed his hands up, laughing as he tried to set his story straight. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the cereal box on the counter. The colorful sweepstakes ad for the VG-8000 grabbed his attention. 

“The new game station came out.” He finally said. “There are some really cool Captain Qwark vid-comics on it. It’s pretty expensive, and I want to work overtime.”

Somehow, none of those were lies.

“The new game station, huh?” Ratchet held his breath. “Are my stories really so boring that you’d rather get your hero fix from vid-comics?” He joked, and the young lombax internally sighed in relief. 

“What? No!” Ratchet realized how fake he sounded, and he could only hope that Alister didn't. “I just want to spice things up a bit.” Still not a lie. “I hear the grand tale of you and dad taking grandpa’s Trillium Harvester everyday!” Damn, he was really good at telling the truth.

Alister crossed his arms. “Oh come on, now. I don't tell that story everyday. Besides, it  _ was  _ truly grand!” He held his hand out dramatically, “With that Trillium Harvester, we rode off to the Agorian Battleplex! It was there that your father-”

“Entered the tournament and, although the Agorians would never admit it, became the first ever non-Agorian to win.” 

“Well, what you don’t know is that it was the-”

“Happiest day of my father’s life.”

“Actually, it was-”

“Second only to the day I was born.”

Alister cocked his head back, and Ratchet smirked at him. “Everyday, pops. You tell it everyday.” 

He turned back to the door.

“You be careful out there, Ratchet.” 

He paused, hunching his shoulders. With a quiet grumble, he rolled his eyes before facing Alister.

“It’s Grim’s.” He deadpanned, “I go there on the daily.” 

“Well, you don't usually go out on this day. Never this early either.” Alister reminded him, “Things could be different. Someone new could come to the garage and…”

Ratchet zoned out as Alister went through a list of highly unlikely hazards. “Yeah, yeah.” He opened the door, muttering through gritted teeth. “Love ya. Bye.”

Once he was outside, he stood tall, taking a deep whiff of the dry Veldin air. For him, freedom was a fifteen minute walk. 

But Ratchet needed it to be a five minute one today. Talking with Alister had already killed enough time, and he was determined to get to the garage before any customers did. Although he didn’t have to do any work for them today, they would be too much of a distraction. 

He would need to take the shortcut then- the one with a few tall ledges and large gaps between rocky platforms. Although he knew Alister wouldn't approve, he leapt over each obstacle, flipping as he did. Ratchet always landed on his feet with a satisfied smirk. A few horn toads popped out of small, dry bushes. Picking up a nearby branch, he rapidly swept them away, never stopping in his track. He didn't have time to deal with all that. 

He rushed past a few travellers scattered about the plateau. They were struggling with their maps, reaching out to him with questions about Kyzil or Veldin. Even about Solana. Ratchet would humor them some days, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted right now. Offering a quick apologetic shrug, he continued on his way.

A ship landed at a nearby communication tower, and a hawker climbed out, staring at Ratchet with wide eyes and beak agape. In its stupor, the hawker failed to celebrate five consecutive new years. 

Ratchet didn’t think much of the encounter. He became used to how people would gawk at him. Alister told him it was because he would be the first lombax they would have seen a very long while. Ratchet liked to think it was because of his charming, megawatt smile. 

He simply gave the hawker a small, awkward wave as he came up to the door of his destination: Grim’s Garage.

Grim probably wasn’t even awake yet, but Ratchet knew that he would be okay with him just coming in. He wouldn’t have given him a key if he didn't trust him.

Ratchet had been working for the fongoid mechanic for five years now. Originally, Grim wasn’t too keen on hiring someone that young, but once he saw what the little lombax could do with a wrench and how much he wanted a job there, he couldn’t turn him down.

Inventing, tinkering, fixing things up- it all came naturally to Ratchet. It was the gift of being a lombax, Alister would say. The gift of being his father’s son. 

Working at Grim’s also gave Ratchet a chance to fix up star cruisers that came from worlds away. This was the only place Alister would let him go on his own, and Ratchet tried to make it worth his while. He would listen to the epic sagas of adventurers as he made repairs and modifications to their ships. He hoped that one day, he would be able to join them. One day soon. 

He looked over to the corner of the garage where his personal project rested, covered in tarp. If he could finish it today, it wouldn't take long for him to be among the stars.

Ratchet took the cover off and basked in the glory of The Micron- his very own ship. 

For the past few months, Grim let him work on it in this little corner as long as it didn't interfere with business. Sometimes, he would pass by, watching as Ratchet toiled away.

“Your dad know about this?” He would always ask.

“No, Grim.” Each time, Ratchet would shrink away with guilt. “I haven’t told Alister.”

And with that, he would just nod and walk away, sipping his coffee from the same rustic green mug he did every morning- the one Ratchet gave as an apology gift for stealing from him years ago.

Other than that, Grim never really had anything to say when it came to his little project. It became a part of the routine.

Wheeling a cart of tools closer to the ship, Ratchet was ready to get to work. 

There wasn’t much left to do. It was mostly last second additions and maintenance checks- just to ensure nothing would blow up the moment he tried starting it up. Tightening nuts and bolts, checking the wires, making sure everything was properly welded.

An hour later, he looked up at the ship with a self-assured nod. It was ready to go.

“Okay.” His said as he took the wheel in his trembling hands. “Let’s give you a test drive.” He started up the engine. Nothing. He tried again. The ship wouldn't budge. 

With an elongated groan, he planted his head on the wheel. Defeat. 

It was missing something, that much Ratchet knew. He was tempted to ask Grim what the part could be. But he couldn't. He  _ had  _ to do this on his own.

Ratchet had already been through the whole storage unit. He made sure to check the entire inventory. Over the past few months, he’s exhausted every option. There was nothing that could possibly make it work here.

But maybe…

Maybe Alister might have something.

He took a scavenging job the other day. He always took a couple pieces home. There was a chance that he had what he needed.

Ratchet bit his lip. It wasn't like he could go up to Alister and ask him if he could take a couple parts. He would definitely be suspicious. He would start to ask questions. If Ratchet wanted them, he was going to have to take them. 

He flung the tarp back over The Micron and left the garage, making sure to lock it up before he made his way home.

 

-

 

Anxiously tugging on his gloves, Ratchet stood before Alister’s bedroom door. Sure, he was going to try leaving the house without permission earlier this morning, but at least it was to the garage, a place he went to on a regular basis. Snooping around Alister’s room? That was completely off limits. 

To make matters worse, his old man had a keen sense of observation. If Ratchet took out too many spare parts, he would know in a heartbeat. It would be so much easier to be caught stealing than sneaking out.

Despite the doubts that wracked in his mind, he thought back to the clunky little ship just waiting for him at the garage. There was only one more thing it needed, he was sure of it. It was a risk worth taking. With bated breath, he slowly cracked the door open, making the silent oath to never do this again. 

When he was younger, he would stay in Alister’s room whenever he had nightmares. Taking a look around, it was pretty much unchanged since then- the bed pressed up against the wall, a few crates and boxes surrounding it.

In the corner, he saw a small black box, the one Alister would take with him when he had to go scavenging. Ratchet dashed over to it, popping the lid off. 

He groaned. It was all just scrap metal. Nothing useful at all. Ratchet leaned against a crate, disappointment sinking in. He sat there for a moment, his eyes wandering around the room. 

The other crates seemed to call for him. Ratchet hummed thoughtfully. There might be parts hidden away in other boxes. It seemed unlikely that Alister would have kept everything he collected in one crate considering how many scavenging jobs he had done in the past. As long as he returned everything to its original place and kept it clean, there wouldn't be an issue. He adjusted himself to face the box behind him.

Opening it, Ratchet grabbed a small, sealed file from the top. He read the label.

The Great Clock.

“Eh.” He tucked it away. “Sounds boring.”

Where that folder originally rested, he found a few torn up and scribbled out documents. So many names and terms he didn't know. Tachyon. Cragmites. Dimensionator. They all seemed so official. So important. He read the words ‘Court of Azimuth’, and he wondered how Alister factored into all of this. 

Ratchet wished he could ask him what everything meant, but then he would have to admit that he went through his belongings. Alister would probably just dismiss it anyway, saying that it was “adult” stuff. But Ratchet was getting older. He had to tell him at some point. With a heavy sigh, he continued to rummage through the box.

Ratchet picked up a small tin container, and a few pictures spilled out. He collected a stack and slowly shuffled through them, a feast for his eyes. Ratchet was disappointed in himself for getting distracted, but he thought that this was worth taking a good look. 

At the top, there was a photo of his father by himself, curled up under a tree and sleeping peacefully. In handwriting he didn't recognize, “Very funny, Alister...” was scrawled on the bottom.

The rest were pictures he hadn’t seen since he was little, back when he first asked about his family, about life back on Fastoon. Most of them were of Alister when he was younger, almost all of them with Ratchet’s father. Their first joyride. His father fixing up a cruiser while Alister watched. His father trying to ask his mother out. The three of them on Alister’s 20th birthday. 

The last picture of the stack was a wedding photo, one that Ratchet hadn't seen before. His father stood underneath a white arch, his face gleaming with pure joy. Alister was off to the left, his hands folded neatly in front of him. On the right, a clumsy but pleasant maid of honor was tripping on her dress. Next to her, the bride- a petite young lombax with a sweet smile and gentle eyes.

Alister never really spoke about Ratchet’s mother. It made a certain sense; he was his father’s best friend, not hers. Still, based on what Ratchet could see in the pictures, Alister seemed to hang around the both of them often, and he was the best man at their wedding; they were probably friends to some degree.

Ratchet wanted to know a little more about her. What did she do for a living? What was she like? All he knew was that his father loved her very, very much. He would press on and ask more questions, but Alister was resolute at leaving it at that. Some days, he seemed downright uncomfortable mentioning her. It always had to be about his father.

Frowning, he dug past more photos until he felt the touch of cool metal. He thought that he finally found a part for the ship, but pulling it out, he discovered something much better.

Hoverboots. 

On the inside, a name was inscribed into it.

“Dad.” Ratchet’s voice was soft, reverent.

He remembered how Alister described him in their adventures- brave, daring, noble. He accomplished tremendous feats all while wearing a  _ sick _ pair of hoverboots.

Hoverboots that looked to be roughly Ratchet’s shoe size.

A mischievous grin crept on his lips. 

They were technically his through inheritance, right? Surely, Alister wouldn’t mind if he  took them for a quick spin... 

Ratchet shook his head. That was way too unrealistic. He was talking about the guy who would scold him for eating a hot pocket without waiting two minutes to cool. Besides, Ratchet was on a mission. He needed to go back to the garage as soon as possible.

But Alister wouldn’t be back for hours. He wouldn't have to know. And Ratchet had already decided that he would never sneak into his room again. This was his only chance.

He was certain that he wouldn't spend all day riding around. He would be able  to return the boots  _ and  _ go back to fixing his ship soon. 

Shoving a handful of pictures and loose paper back into the box, he clutched the boots close to his chest, heart pounding as he raced out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet could have noclipped to A Crack in Time if he just took a closer look at that folder smh.
> 
> Alister’s work is the equivalent of doing weird shit for video game quests. Ratchet’s work is the equivalent of not having child labor laws.
> 
> Oh yeah, also, Grim is here. And Ratchet calls his ship “The Micron”. But other then that- the 2016 Reboot? I don't know her.


	3. The Test

The only time Ratchet had seen Alister use hoverboots was when he carried him out of Veldin’s outlands. Soon after that, he packed it up with his armor somewhere, trading them for some plain work clothes. 

If memory served, it didn't look too difficult. It would be like walking, right? Just one foot in front of the other.

Standing at the edge of a rocky platform, Ratchet recited it to himself over and over until he began to believe it. One foot in front of the other.

He stepped away from the ledge, deciding that he should start small. Hover first,  _ then  _ see how his body would react to being flung across a dangerous height to fall from. 

A  _ very _ dangerous height to fall from.

Suddenly discouraged, he took another step back, scrunching his nose. With the thought of falling in mind, the boots on his feet suddenly felt like cinder blocks. Brushing his ears back, he closed his eyes.

It would just be a quick test. He would see if the boots worked, then he would cram them back into one of Alister’s crates, never to be seen again.

“This is the only chance you got.” He whispered, “Come on.” 

Keeping a hand on a nearby boulder, Ratchet activated his hoverboots.

Opening his eyes, he looked down to see his feet lifting off the floor. Confidence growing, he tried to glide around the platform. Although he clumsily swung his wobbling legs, he was proud of the fact that he was actually moving. He turned to face the edge of the platform. A cocky grin formed on his face as he sized up the gap. It wasn’t too wide. He could make it.

He backed up, ready for the challenge. Taking a deep breath, he charged to the ledge and bounced off of it into the open air. The force of the hoverboots was the only thing keeping him up. He felt weightless as he peered to the ground far below. Swiftly landing on the other side, he threw his hands up and cheered himself on. 

He continued to hover, narrowly dodging every rock and prickly plant in his path. For a while, the young lombax awkwardly circled around the outskirts of the plateau. As fun as maneuvering through rocks and dry bushes was, he decided that he needed a livelier test ground. Turning around a boulder, he caught a glimpse of Kyzil’s main land. 

Not the liveliest test ground, but it would do.

 

-

 

It was almost forty minutes out of Kyzil when Alister received a call from Lansbright.

Apparently, he found a large nest of skreeducks settled on his roof that also needed to be tended to. Alister’s equipment to deal with it was left back home, unprepared for the last minute call. He was only ten minutes away from Lansbright’s sector, but he knew it would be worth his while to complete both jobs.

Sighing, he made a sharp U-turn back to the plateau. At that point, Lansbright should have just moved. There was really no way to salvage that fixer upper. But a job was a job, bolts were bolts, and Lansbright  _ usually  _ paid him a generous amount. Alister really couldn’t complain. 

The day was still young. Lansbright didn't care that he would be a little late. As long as the job got done and it was done well, he would be content. Still, Alister didn't want to keep him waiting. He sped back to Kyzil and parked his ship right next to the front of the house upon arrival.

Opening the door, he took in the quiet of the room and felt a peculiar sense of unease. Alister tried to shake it off. He needed to have more faith in his boy. Ratchet was growing up, taking on more responsibilities. He was raised to be diligent and honest. If he said he would be working, then he was working. 

Alister hurried up the stairs, but, once he saw his bedroom door wide open, he froze. This wouldn’t be good.

Rushing in, he was taken aback by the open crates and loose papers. He grabbed the skreeduck equipment from his closet before checking the box situated near the corner of his room. The one filled with remnants of his old life. Holding his breath, he peered into it and brushed the papers and pictures away. Just as he feared, there was a hole where Kaden’s hoverboots should have been. 

To hell with what he thought earlier. 

Lansbright would have to wait.  Alister would have to deal with this  _ now _ . 

After he tossed the equipment into his ship, he rode to the garage, praying that Ratchet only took the hoverboots for work. He would at least have a good reason for stealing that way. Alister desperately wanted to believe it. 

The main gate was locked up; it wasn’t even open for business yet. His determination unwavering, Alister went to the side door and firmly knocked on it.

“Azimuth?” 

“Grim.” For some reason, he expected Ratchet to answer the door, not  _ him _ . But of course he would- it was his garage. Alister studied the fongoid for a moment, his expression unreadable. They hadn’t spoken in a long time. 

But this wasn’t about him. This was about Ratchet.

The lombax held his head up high, “I know that he’s probably busy right now, but I need to speak to Ratchet.” 

“He’s off today.”

Although Alister already had a good idea of what the young lombax was up to, he pressed on, “He told me he was working overtime.”

Grim simply shrugged. “Sorry, but he hasn't come in.”

His suspicions confirmed, Alister hastily left without another word. He made his way back to his ship, pacing next to it as he figured out where the boy could have possibly gone. 

A blur of yellow whizzed past him.

“Ratchet?” He called out to it.

The blur of yellow seemed to move faster.

“Ratchet.” 

Lansbright would  _ definitely  _ have to wait.

 

-

 

It wasn’t his intention to speed away from Alister the moment he saw him, but the hoverboots kept going and going. Despite his best efforts, Ratchet couldn’t shut them off. 

“Ratchet! Come back here immediately!” He heard Alister’s voice from behind him, and the boots got even worse from there. The young lombax didn’t even bother to look back. 

He trampled into every traveller standing around the plateau, knocking over their canteens, their maps, their communicators. 

“Yikes! Sorry! Didn’t mean it!” He hollered, but he knew that they probably didn’t hear nor care about what he said. They all collapsed onto the ground, shaking their fists, wings, or tentacles at him and yelling words he couldn’t understand. Probably cursing. 

Definitely cursing.

He could just barely hear Alister shouting in the distance. Frustrated, Ratchet glared at the boots, “We can stop now, you know that?” 

He rammed into a stationary cruiser, smashing the window. Trying to stop himself, he kicked his leg out and ended up denting the ship next to it. He then pulled himself out of the tight space and began to spin around uncontrollably, scratching up and bumping into the few surrounding ships. Through the blur of heavy motion, he was able to make out all the destruction he was causing. At least Grim would be getting good business today.

He attempted to steer away from the mainland, right to the edge of the plateau. There, he only had to worry about hitting dead plants and horn toads. 

Steadying his breath, he held onto a nearby ledge and hovered in place for a moment. Checking the surrounding platforms, he was glad to see that Alister was nowhere in sight; at least he could save himself some embarrassment. He eventually let go, keeping his arms out as he continued to fix himself. Straightening himself up, the sway in his legs began to disappear. He let out a sigh of relief. He fixed it.

Then a small horn toad had to jump up and chomp on his foot.

With a sharp screech, he shook his leg, trying to loosen the toad’s grip on him. The creature refused to let go. With one foot frantically waving around, he lost balance on the other. He found himself toppling over the ledge and plunging right into the outlands below. His free foot kept him floating, making sure he wouldn't crash on impact. 

He began to glide across the sandy floor, the horn toad getting knocked off after bumping into a rock. 

That solved one problem.

“Ratchet!” 

Here came another. 

The young lombax spun around with a groan. Alister was riding his ship behind him, the hood lifted up. He drove up to his side. Ratchet could see his mouth moving, but the sound of the ship and the rushing air around him covered up his words. All he knew was that he probably wasn’t too happy at the moment.

He watched as Kyzil became more distant with every passing second. Ratchet bit his lip. He  _ had _ to find a way to stop.

The young lombax peeked into the ship next to him, trying to make out what Alister could be saying but it was no use. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated. It would be like starting up the boots, he thought to himself, just opposite this time. Horrible instruction, but it was really all he could think of. He continued to breathe evenly as he focused on working the boots.

He eventually found himself tumbling onto the ground. It worked! As he continued to scrape against the harsh sand, Ratchet wished that he could have gotten it to work much sooner.

Smacking into a boulder, he landed on his head, his tail dangling in front of him. Waving it away with a groggy hand, he discovered an upside down world. He grimaced when he realized that Alister was out of his ship and advancing towards him.

Ratchet mustered up the most innocent smile he could, “Oh, hey, pops!” He chuckled, “Fancy seeing you here!”

Alister’s disapproving scowl was just as terrifying upside down as it was right side up. 


	4. Friction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a very plot relevant Steven's University homage.

Ratchet sat in Alister’s ship, his arms folded over his chest. Tapping his foot impatiently, he listened to the muffled voices outside and tried to figure out if they would be able to leave soon. 

Alister picking him up and taking him back to his ship? Understandable. Alister forcing him to stay in said ship while he went through his workday instead of dropping him off back home? Downright sadistic.

Seeing the hood begin to rise up, he sighed in relief. He would be out of there soon enough. But then again, Alister would be boarding, and that would be a different kind of torture. 

“Yes, of course, Mr. Lansbright!” He heard him eagerly call out to the client nearby. Ratchet could tell he was forcing that happiness. “You have a good one!” He handed Ratchet two burlap sacks before jumping into the ship. He prayed they weren't the pests Alister would have to take care of. He would much rather be carrying the moldy produce that Lansbright sometimes paid him with. Either way, the lombax scrunched his nose in disgust. 

This was the last place he wanted to be and that was the last thing he wanted to hold. The annoyance on his face never faltering, he began to lean on the side of the ship as he watched the top come down.

“You’re grounded.” Alister said the moment the hood fully closed. 

Ratchet snorted, “What is there to even ground me from?”

“No holovision for a month.”

“What?”

_“_ And lights out at 10.” 

“A curfew? I’m not a kid anymore!”

“Then stop acting like one.” 

Feeling the ship rise from the ground, Ratchet slumped in his seat. He blamed pest control for giving Alister good ways to torment him. Had it been carrying cargo or transporting broken cruisers today, he would have gotten off scot free. “So for the next month you expect me to go to the garage, come home, then stare at a wall for a few hours?” 

Alister remained quiet.

“That’s bullshit.” Ratchet mumbled under his breath.

“Language.”

“Well, it is.”

“We can make it two months if you keep that up.”

Ratchet flattened his lips, breathing deeply through his nose. He stared out the window, watching the small town they were in fade into the outlands of Veldin. In the distance, he could see ships flying higher and higher until they disappeared into the orange sky. It felt like hours before he finally saw Kyzil forming in the horizon. 

“I was doing just fine until you started yelling at me.” He muttered, his head pressed up against the window.

“You lost control because you let yourself get distracted. You’re not mature enough to handle situations like that.” He tightly gripped the wheel, glancing at the younger lombax with harsh eyes. “This is exactly why I don’t allow you to do these things.” 

“Whatever.” Ratchet grumbled. He brought the bags in his lap close to him. “What I did wasn't even that bad.” 

“Not that bad?” Alister shot him a look of disbelief. “For one thing, you lied to me.” 

“I  _ did _ go to the garage. I didn’t lie!” Ratchet defended himself, raising his voice. Alister glared at him. “I just left some things out...” He added in a soft mutter.

“Lying by omission is still lying.” The older lombax said sternly, “And going into my room? Stealing your father’s hoverboots? Wreaking havoc on the plateau? All of that was definitely bad, Ratchet! Careless! Dangerous! Property was damaged. People got hurt.”

Arriving at the house, Alister kept the hood closed for a moment, forcing them to sit in the tense silence. He grabbed one of the bags from Ratchet, looking at him with a solemn expression. “I could have lost you.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Once Alister left, Ratchet rolled his eyes. He snatched the remaining bag from his lap, and he climbed out of the ship. Outside, the older lombax was already walking to the front door.

“The most I got was a few bruises and scratches. You’re overreacting!” 

Alister put the bag he carried down and turned to face Ratchet, an eyebrow raised. “What if you flew too high and the boots powered out? And those things can go pretty fast. What if a ship didn't see you and you got hit? It’s new technology for you. If something went wrong, you wouldn't be able to handle it.” 

Before Ratchet could speak up, Alister stepped towards him, “Not to mention, you went off the plateau and into the outlands. What if you got stuck? What if I couldn't find you?” He retrieved the bag from behind him. “There are dangerous people out there, Ratchet. You know that.”

The younger lombax kept his eyes on the floor, unable to argue. 

Alister’s disappointed glare remained fixed on him as he hauled the bag over his shoulder. “What you did today was unacceptable.” He turned away, leaving Ratchet speechless.

He stood by the ship, shaking his head in contempt as he watched the older lombax walk away. Clutching his burlap sack in a tight fist, he followed him into the house.“I was just trying to have some fun!” He tried to come up to Alister’s side, but he refused to look at him, focusing on the bag he set on kitchen counter. “Can you blame me? The most excitement I get around here is adding an extra coat of wax on an old clunker.” 

“It’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, I know, but it keeps you safe.”

“Alister, I’m fifteen!” He threw the burlap sack onto the floor beside him. “You can't expect me to stay in a garage my whole life!”

He faced Ratchet with a sharp turn, “Do you know what you’re risking when you pull stunts like you did today? You’re far too important to be putting yourself in danger.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure the fate of the universe relies on a nobody from nowhere.” Ratchet backed away with a sarcastic shrug.

“Ratchet, don't say that!” Alister’s expression softened slightly. “You’re the last hope for the lombaxes. Your father’s legacy. You are a promise for the future.” He went over to Ratchet, placing a hand on his shoulder, but it was quickly brushed off. 

“The last hope. The legacy.” Ratchet mocked the words he heard his whole life. “You ever see me as a living, breathing thing, Alister?” 

“Where is this even coming from?” His voice grew harsh again. “You aren’t thinking clearly, Ratchet. Your father would have wanted you to be rational.” 

“ _ My father _ would have wanted me to be happy.”

Alister’s eyes narrowed. “He would want you to live.”

“This isn't living!” Ratchet gestured outside. “You always tell me how you and dad used to go on adventures-”

“Everything is different now.” His face grew dark, somber. “There’s so much more at stake than you know.”

“You won’t let me know! Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to keep things from me! To keep me trapped here!”

“That’s enough, Ratchet.”

“I think that dad would want me to-”

“I said that’s  _ enough _ !” He suddenly yelled, Ratchet flinching. “You don’t get to tell me what Kaden would have wanted! You didn't know him! You don't know anything!” He slammed a fist into the wall, and Ratchet swore he felt the whole house shake.

He shrunk away, reeling in shock.

No. 

He refused to let Alister get the upper hand in this fight. 

“And  _ you _ don't get to tell me what to do.” Ratchet took a step forward. “You’re not my father.”

He brushed past Alister, bolting up the stairs, into his room. The older lombax sunk into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ratchet’s words racing through his mind, he sighed. Another regret to add to his already generous supply.

He pulled his watch out his pocket but kept it closed, simply running a thumb over its cover. His eyes wandered to the stairwell, but he knew that the boy wouldn't be coming down anytime soon.

“I wish you were here, Kaden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof


	5. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been listening to the RWBY soundtracks lately. That shit slaps and gives some good writing inspiration. 10/10 would recommend.

With the fight hanging heavy over his head, Ratchet pounded a fist into the door behind him, hoping that Alister could hear it. 

He never chose to be a lombax. He never chose to be his father’s son. Yet here he was, dealing with the consequences of being both.

Letting his shallow breathing subside, he continued to lean against the door. As he rolled his head back, Ratchet caught a glimpse of the wall next to him. There, his height was tracked over the years. He was barely taller than the mark Alister scratched in when he was eleven. 

His eyes darted away.

He didn't want to see how his little his life had changed since he was a kid. He didn't need to be reminded of how small he was. 

More than anything, he wanted to take a bucket of paint from Grim’s and splatter it over that ridiculous height chart. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to conceal what was permanently etched into the wall. 

Kicking aside the few holofilm cases that were strewn on the floor, Ratchet trudged over to his bed. Falling back onto it, he focused on the poster of Captain Qwark that hung on the wall across from him. His nose twitched. Qwark didn't get grounded for just trying to have fun. Qwark didn’t have to steal hoverboots just to get a kick out of life. He was a hero. Everyone loved him, and he was free to do whatever he wanted. 

Ratchet’s eyes drifted to the window, looking past the rocky terrain in the horizon and out to the stars. Sighing, he walked over to it, gently pushing the glass open. He leaned on its frame, sticking his body as far out of the room as he could. 

He remembered sitting on the roof with Alister when he was little, the older Lombax naming constellations and distant planets.

“And that,” He would say, pointing to a cluster of stars. “That’s the Polaris Galaxy. It’s where Fastoon is.” 

“Fastoon?”

“Yes, it’s where we’re from, Ratchet. Where all lombaxes are from.” 

“It’s so far.” 

“Yeah.” His voice would get so soft. “It really is.”

“You think we can go there someday?”

And Alister would change the subject, showing him a space station or telling him about another escapade he had with his dad. He didn't mind when he was younger, though- the stories he heard were enough to keep him satisfied.

Back then, he could look at the stars and see endless possibilities. He plotted the adventures he would have in his mind. Now, the twinkling night sky above taunted him. Far off star systems and galaxies he would never get to see. A universe he would never get to explore. 

_ You think we can go there someday? _

“No.” Ratchet muttered, “No, we can’t.”

He continued to gaze up at the small, bright cluster Alister had shown him years ago, as if he could transport far, far away just by looking at it. Suddenly, a speck of green flickered close to it.

“What the…” His voice trailed as a streak faded into the night. A satellite that came too close to orbit, maybe? A cargo shuttle that lost its way?

What it used to be didn't matter. Now, it was just a wreck. A wreck with parts that came from distant lands. Parts that Ratchet wouldn’t have seen before. 

Parts that could work for The Micron.

Ratchet considered the rising smoke where the jet stream lead to. The crash wasn't too far...

He glanced down at his feet, feeling the weight of his father’s hoverboots. In his anger, Alister forgot to confiscate them. At least their argument was good for something. Ratchet would be able to sneak out through the window and make it to the site in no time. And if luck would have it and he found something useful, he could get to the garage just as easily.

He looked behind him, expecting Alister to suddenly appear, wagging a finger at him for having such a reckless, impulsive idea. But now, Ratchet was alone, and Alister wouldn't be the one to make the choice. It would be him. 

“I gotta do this, old man.” He muttered, ignoring the twinge of sadness in his own voice. He snatched his wrench from the bedside table and jumped onto the windowsill, clinging onto the top of the frame. 

Peering to the ground below, he took a deep breath and pretended that he didn’t feel his knees wobbling. Just one swift jump and he would be free. “Come on. You can do it.” He said with shaky breath. Shutting his eyes, he activated his hoverboots, and he felt himself slowly lifting up. 

He floated to the ground below and held his breath as he prepared to deactivate his hoverboots. A perfect landing. With a chuckle, he peeked over his shoulder, back up to his bedroom window. 

“I’m so double grounded when I get back.” 

_ If  _ he came back.

With the help of his hoverboots, he zoomed through Kyzil at high speed, whizzing past the horn toads that tried to snap at him and the wanderers that tried to ask him questions. Although he had travelled through the plateau countless times in his life, the air that night felt different. 

Riding into the outskirts of Kyzil, he found the source of the smoke- a crashed starfighter. A Quartu model. Ratchet frowned as he saw most of the ship in flames. Nothing he could salvage for The Micron. He was ready to hang his head in shame and return to the house when he noticed the gleam of shiny metal at the side of the wreckage. He squinted, unable to make out what it was from a distance. He stepped closer before realizing there were a few robots surrounding the crash. Ducking behind a boulder, he peeked his head out to observe them.

They were bots he had never seen on the plateau before. 

Armored bots, scouring the area with a high beam light in their single eye. They had siren lights on their heads and cannons attached to their arms. Holding them up high as they hovered around, they were ready to attack at any moment. 

Although a part of him knew that he should have run away the moment he saw them, Ratchet felt even more determined to get whatever was in that crash. 

Avoiding their search lights, he hovered closer to the wrecked starfighter, and the shiny metal on the floor began to take a clear form.

It was a robot. A little one. Folded up in standby mode.

Deactivating his hoverboots, he kneeled down, picking it up for a brief inspection. It was a little scuffed up from the crash but probably fully functional. It wasn’t what he was looking for. It would do nothing for his ship. Yet Ratchet felt compelled to take it back with him. It was at least worth a better look back at the garage.

Holding it close to his chest, he cautiously stood up, his eyes shifting side to side as he checked for potential threats. He took a step back from the crash and was paralyzed when he bumped into something behind him.

He slowly turned around and found himself eye to eye with an armored bot. It looked at the small robot in his arms, and the light on its head began to flash an intense red.

Gulping, Ratchet activated his hoverboots.

He dashed away as he heard a pulse of electricity from the armored bot’s cannon. He soon heard another pulse. 

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw two bots on his trail, their cannons pointed towards him. Luckily for Ratchet, the others weren’t alerted. One of them fired a surge of electricity, but he was able to swerve away before he could take a hit. 

“All this for you?” He mumbled, holding out the small robot in his hands, “You better be worth it, little guy.”

His brows furrowed in thought as he continued to speed away. As long as he carried that little robot with him, they wouldn't leave him alone. He would have to deal with them somehow. Ratchet knew his strengths and weaknesses. He didn’t stand a chance fighting them. Even though his hoverboot technique was far from perfect, it was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. All he had was speed. 

He could work with that.

Ratchet looked at the mainland of Kyzil. There was no way he would lead the bots there. If his hoverboot fiasco was enough to wreck a few cruisers and injure a few tourists **,** there was no saying what damage the could bring with these two. Also, Alister would then be able to witness the chaos that ensued, and that would be another issue in itself.

Ratchet would just have to be clever. He would have to use the outlands to his advantage. If he did it once as a kid, surely he could do it now.

Riding further away from the plateau, he steered clear of the boulders. He could hear the bots picking up their speed, drawing near to him. His ears picked up the sound of one cannon starting up again. 

He watched as the cannon struck a nearby boulder, rocking it back and forth upon impact. 

That could be useful.

Frantically scanning the outlands, Ratchet found a tower of large boulders stacked upon one another. He darted to it, circling around the structure as one of the bots drew near. 

Struggling to aim at a rapidly moving target, the bot fired at Ratchet and missed, hitting the tower twice. The lombax hovered in front of the structure for a moment, trembling as he heard the rocks shifting. As the bot came to him, Ratchet ducked away. It didn’t have the chance to follow him, as the boulders tumbled down. He turned away from the fallen structure, speeding down another path.

Only one more bot Ratchet had to deal with now. Unfortunately, he had used up his supply of rock towers to knock over. Fortunately, the outlands were vast and varied enough to find a new way out.

The remaining bot was whirring loudly behind him, doing its best to keep up with his fast pace. Ratchet continued to maneuver through the outland’s natural obstacles, quickly swerving away whenever the bot would try to shock him. His eyes widened as he looked further down the path he followed. 

He was nearing a cliff. 

There was still time to change his course, but an idea popped into his head. A dangerous, maybe even stupid idea. But an idea that he knew would work.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw that the bot wasn’t slowing down. If it would just run itself right off that ledge, the chase would be over. All Ratchet needed to do was keep going and make a daring escape before it was too late for him. 

He was sure he could manage that.

Mostly sure.

With a sharp inhale, he went faster, coming closer and closer to the cliff.

He really hoped this would work. Behind him, the bot was preparing its cannon. This would be the last time it could, Ratchet was sure of it. 

He clung onto the robot, bracing himself as he was only a few feet away from the ledge.

Shifting his weight, he made a sharp turn away.

His head was rushing, but he could make out the sound of a distant crash that came seconds later.

Hovering back to the spot where he turned, Ratchet dropped to his knees. With one arm firmly wrapped around the small robot and the other holding himself up, he leaned over the ledge. Looking down to the ground far below, he saw the armored bot splattered on the rocky terrain. Its sparking wires were sticking out from the lifeless metal. 

Ratchet shuffled away from the cliff before falling back, laughing in relief. Letting his arms fall to his sides, the little robot slid off of him, but he was too overcome with happiness to care. 

Although Ratchet couldn’t put up much of a fight, he was able to find a way around it. He knew for a fact that he was worthy of his father’s hoverboots. That he was worthy of going out like he wanted.

“Come on, little guy.” He rose from the ground, taking the robot into his steady hands. “Let’s take you to the garage.”

 

\--

 

Tapping on the handrail, Alister lingered at the bottom of the stairs. He peeked into the kitchen where a small pot rested on the stove. It was a little late for dinner, but the boy hadn't eaten at all that day. Not even when he offered him food on their way to Lansbright’s sector. It wasn't healthy to shut himself in his room without a meal. It wasn't healthy to shut himself in at all.

When Alister came up to Ratchet’s door, he stood there quietly, unable to bring himself to speak. As a general, he learned to command, to take charge in difficult circumstances. He learned to be strong-willed and pragmatic. He was able to garner the respect of even the most wayward troops. Yet, when it came to dealing with a teenager hiding away in his room, he was lost. The outcome of a battle was always easy for him to foresee, but the aftermath of a fight with Ratchet was unpredictable.

Alister shook his head, internally admonishing himself for being so weak. Kaden would be disappointed in him. It shouldn’t have been such a hard task. All he needed to do was get the boy out of his room.

If Ratchet would come downstairs, even if it were just to eat, they could start to put their argument behind them. 

Alister took a step closer to the door and let out a deep breath before he finally spoke. “Ratchet, it’s time for dinner.” 

Expecting to hear a reluctant “okay” on the other side of the door, he listened closely, but nothing came.

“I made you sand toad stew.” His childhood favorite. Alister was surprised that he couldn’t even get a reaction out of that. “Ratchet, you have to eat.” He weakly tapped on the door. 

Silence. Not even a “Go away!” or “I hate you!” At least that would give him something to work with. 

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Ratchet, come on.” Still, nothing. “Ratchet.” He tried again, his voice coming out harsher than before. 

His frustration growing, Alister opened the door, refusing to let the boy starve himself. “I understand that you’re upset, but that doesn't mean-” 

Alister stopped at the doorway. 

The room was still, empty.

“No.” He frantically tossed the bed sheets aside, only to find a lumpy pillow underneath. “No. No, please, no.” 

He desperately looked around, hoping to find a place where the small lombax could have hidden himself. 

But in that small room, there was nowhere to go. 

Ratchet wasn’t there anymore. Even his wrench was gone. 

As the walls felt like they were closing in, Alister turned to face the window, the curtains gently wafting in the wind.

He rushed over to it, quickly checking the ground below and finding comfort in the fact that it was bare. Taking the time to steady his breath, he looked out, noticing smoke in the distance. He knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Ratchet couldn't have gone too far. 

  
  
  



	6. Desperate Measures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you already know what tf going on!!

The excitement from the chase began to die down as Ratchet arrived at the garage. He stopped at the side door, debating whether or not he should wake Grim and tell him about everything that had happened. 

He ultimately decided against it. Telling the fongoid about The Micron and his plan to see the galaxy was one thing. Bringing a potentially wanted robot back to the garage in the middle of the night was another. There was a chance that he would take him back to Alister. Although he hadn’t seen the two talk to each other in years, Ratchet couldn’t take that risk. 

He knew Grim couldn’t get involved. The garage would just be his secret hideaway for the night. That was it.

Ratchet unlocked the door to see nothing but a dark room. It was almost pitch black, but he didn't want to turn the lights on. If Grim ended up coming into the workspace for whatever reason, it would be much easier to hide in the dark. 

With a grumble, he began to feel his way to the corner of the garage, hoping he didn’t step on anything. Hoping that it wouldn’t be too loud if he did. 

As long as he wasn't screaming his lungs out, Ratchet wouldn't have a problem. Grim’s room was far enough from the main workspace that he wouldn't have to worry about waking him. And the wind that would beat against the garage door every now and then masked whatever noise he made. Still, he could never be too careful. 

Once he reached the corner, he turned on his little table lamp, its faint light just barely filling the small area. 

Hearing his stomach rumble, he pulled out a bag of chips that he hid in an old toolbox. Ratchet knew that Grim probably wouldn’t be so keen on him keeping snacks around the garage, but he was a hard worker and a growing lombax. A secret stash of junk food was a necessity. 

Ratchet laid the small robot on a cart, looking it over as he quietly munched on his chips. 

There was no vector shell damage. The sister board appeared to be intact. There wasn’t anything that the lombax needed to fix up. After wiping the chip grease off of his gloves, he turned the robot around in his hands. 

No button. No switch. 

As far as he could see, there was no way to bring it out of standby mode. He was beginning to think he risked everything in the outlands just to retrieve a paper weight.

“Come on, little guy.” He gently shook it around, “Activate. Awaken. Power time.”

Nothing.

Groaning, Ratchet set it down on the cart. He leaned back on his ship, wrapping his arms around himself. 

He snuck out for nothing. 

Turning to face The Micron, he slowly peeled the tarp off, giving himself time to think.

He didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t want to see Alister. He didn’t want to stay in Kyzil forever.

Ratchet pulled out his wrench and took a step away from his ship, inspecting every detail. 

Maybe he wasn’t missing anything. Maybe he just needed to keep working on what was already there. Maybe there was a loose part that was compromising the entire ship.

It didn’t really make any sense, but Ratchet felt hopeless enough to convince himself anything. He opened up a panel at the front of the ship. He double checked the wires. Then he triple checked. Afterwards, he ran his hand over the rough metal, making sure the bolts on each corner were tight. Pressing his wrench onto one, he prepared to turn it. 

“Interesting.”

Ratchet jumped up, throwing a hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming. He turned around to see the little robot standing on the cart, his green eyes glowing brightly as he stared at the lombax.

“You’re quite handy with your wrench.”

“Yeah, yeah. You bet.” Ratchet murmured, still processing the little robot’s sudden activity. He weakly gestured to The Micron. “I built that ship with it.” 

“Hmmm…” The little robot looked at the ship thoughtfully, and Ratchet grew a little hopeful. Maybe he would be able to offer advice. “ Currently, I am in search of someone who could be of assistance in saving the solar system.” 

Ratchet sighed inwardly. 

That robot really would do nothing for The Micron.  

“Searching for a hero, huh?” He replied, “Sorry, but you’ve come to the wrong place.” 

A bit cynical but sadly true. 

“I don't think you’d be interested in the adventurers that pass through here. They’ve got some great stories, but they’re nothing like Captain Qwark or anything.”

“Captain Qwark?”

Ratchet gave him a doubtful look. “Yeah, you know. Captain Qwark.” The robot simply blinked in response. “He goes around fighting bad guys. A real hero. Seems like the kind of guy you would be looking for.” 

“Do you know where I might find this fellow?”

Ratchet tried not to laugh. The robot asked so casually, as if he personally knew the Captain. In what world would a scrappy mechanic get to know a big time galactic celebrity?

“I see him on holovision every once in a while. Other than that, no.” 

He took a moment to consider why the little robot was asking all of this. He was so used to being bombarded with questions, but they were always about Kyzil. About being a lombax. About how many bolts it would cost to mod a ship. 

Being asked about where to find a hero for Solana was a first. 

“What’s with all this save the solar system stuff anyway?”

Without another word, the small robot produced an infobot from his radiator core. It opened its mouth, and Ratchet found himself looking at a giant screen. It played some sort of broadcast. A broadcast hosted by a blarg in a business suit.

Chairman Drek. 

Ratchet recognized him. He was almost always on screen whenever Alister would watch the morning news. He always shut it off before he could find out more. 

“Hello, citizens of-”

“NOVALIS.” The screen read.

“My race, the blarg, have a small problem.” Drek explained, “Our planet has become so polluted, overpopulated, and poisonous, that we are no longer able to dwell here.”

Ratchet cringed as he watched a clip of the blarg’s homeworld. It was just as awful as the chairman described it to be. He was glad he didn't have to deal with that mess. 

“We are constructing a pristine new world using the choices of planetary components available.”

The young lombax nodded in consideration. If he had the chance to make an entirely new planet in his vision, he would take it in a heartbeat. It was a good proposal.

“We will be extracting a large portion of your planet and adding it to our new one.”

Well, that didn’t sound good.

“Unfortunately, this change in mass will cause your planet to spin out of control and drift into the sun where it will explode into a flaming ball of gas.”

Not good at all.

After the broadcast finished, the infobot closed up, and the little robot packed it away, leaving Ratchet to stare blankly at the space where it once hovered.

“The people on those planets are hosed.” He turned to the robot, “Good luck getting Captain Qwark to help you. Good luck  _ finding  _ him for that matter.” He picked up his table lamp and pointed it towards the side door, “The best I can do is show you how to get out of this garage.”

“Actually, there is a more substantial way you could help me.” He replied, “If you could use your ship to take me to the coordinates contained in this infobot, I might be able to gather further information there.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can't.” Ratchet waved his lamp towards The Micron. “I'm missing a crucial component of the ship.” 

The robot began to whir, his attenta blinking a dim red. After a moment, the whirring stopped, and he pointed a finger into the air. “The Robotic Ignition System.”

“Oh.” 

It seemed a little anticlimactic- having a question hanging over his head for months and getting the answer in a matter of seconds. 

Ratchet wished he had figured it out himself like he wanted to, but it wasn’t too much of a loss. He might have gotten a bit of a nudge in the right direction, but he still built it on his own and would be able to have adventures on his own. He could have his ship and fly it too. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get one of those Robot Engine Dealies, would you?” 

“I, sir, happen to be equipped with the latest in Robotic Ignition Systems. My programming allows me to start any ship I choose.”

Ratchet hummed thoughtfully to himself. That little robot would be useful for The Micron after all.

“So,” He set the table lamp back down. “I agree to take you to this...wherever it is, and you get my ship started for me?”

“That is what I'm proposing.”

This wasn’t following his original plan. He would have to take that robot where he needed to go and help him find Captain Qwark. He technically wouldn’t be out on his own. But it wouldn’t be for too long. And if this was the quickest way off of Veldin, then Ratchet would have to take it.

“Deal.” He slipped his wrench onto his back. “First, we gotta get my ship out of this garage.” 

He needed to get the main gate open. It would make a little noise, but Grim could just dismiss it as the desert wind picking up. His only concern was how dark it was. He couldn’t take the lamp any farther than its cord would allow. Getting across the garage would be a risk. 

He glanced down at the little robot, whose eyes still glowed a vibrant green. 

“Can you go a minute without blinking?” 

“My optic lenses don’t need to be cleaned as frequently as a minute.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ratchet grabbed him from the cart, holding him out as he walked to the front of the workspace. The green light was faint, but waving him around was enough for the lombax to make out the obstacles in his way. Once he was at the side of the garage door, he set the robot down next to him. Although he couldn't make out his expression, he could tell it probably wasn’t a happy one.

He tugged on the chain to pull the garage door open. He bit his lip as it rose. Surely enough, it did make a sound, but it really wasn't too different from it getting hit by the wind. At least to lombax ears. Hopefully the same could be said for a fongoid’s. 

Ratchet kept the door only halfway open. The Micron was small enough to squeeze through, and there was no need to make any more noise than necessary.

With the garage now visible by the moonlight, he picked up the little robot and raced back to his ship. Opening up the hood, he set the robot down in the passenger seat and plopped himself in front of the wheel. Holding his breath, he started up the engine.

He heard the hum of The Micron coming to life. It was better than anything he had ever heard on the garage radio. The ship’s interior lit up before Ratchet’s eyes. It was all so colorful. So bright. 

“It works.” He whispered in awe, “It’s actually working.”

He could feel his heart racing as he felt the ship beginning to hover. He drove it out of the workspace, careful not to bump into any cruisers or shuttles protruding from the wall. The moment the light of the outside world reflected on The Micron, he wanted to take off. But he couldn't get ahead of himself.

“Just stay here for a second.” He told the robot as he climbed out of the ship. “I have to take care of some stuff before we go.”

Running back over to the corner, he shut the lamp off and closed a curtain, concealing his private workspace. It came in handy whenever tarp wasn't enough to keep nosy customers at bay, and it would come in handy now. It would take a bit longer for Grim to realize the ship was gone, and if Grim didn't know, Alister sure as hell wouldn't.

He stood at the entrance of the garage for a moment, taking in the room. He jumped up repeatedly, but he struggled to reach the door each time. With a huff, he backed away.

After a running start, he leapt up again, using his hoverboots to bolster him. He clung onto the bottom of the door, pulling it down and closing it from the outside. 

He made sure all the garage doors were locked before clambering back into The Micron. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he placed his hands on the wheel. 

“Welp, here goes.” 

He had only piloted a ship twice in his life. Once when he was little and still on his own, crashing a cruiser he stole. The other time was his fifteenth birthday- Alister had been there with him, practically keeping one hand on the wheel. It was barely a minute across the plateau when Alister decided he wasn't ready. 

But Ratchet had to be ready now.

The Micron lifted off the ground again. This time, Ratchet let it rise higher and higher. He moved the ship forward, increasing its speed. He peeked out the window to see Kyzil and the outlands of the plateau rushing by, growing distant. 

The visitors, the wanderers, the twisted trees, the bushes, the boulders. Everything looked so small.

He was high up in the air, far past where any skreeduck was willing to fly. Even the tallest communication towers and rock formations were miles below him. He could have touched the clouds if he wanted to.  

As he pushed down on the accelerator, the skies of Veldin began to fade. Ratchet soon found himself surrounded by the stars he would see outside his bedroom window. 

The star system. The galaxy. The universe, large and unknown. It was all spread out before him. 

He was free.

“This is great!” Ratchet pressed his nose against the glass, exhilaration clear on his face. Veldin slowly grew smaller and smaller as he looked on. “So that’s where I’ve been stuck this whole time!” 

“Please return your appendages to the steering mechanism, sir.”

“Huh? Oh right, sorry.” Ratchet quickly returned his hands to the wheel, trying his best not to lose control over it. He wasn’t sure if the difficulty was due to shoddy workmanship or lack of driving experience. He really hoped it was the latter- for their safety and for his pride.

“And by the way, you can stop calling me ‘sir’. The name’s Ratchet. Ratchet Azi-” The lombax scrunched his nose. Out there, he didn’t have to be Alister’s kid. All things considered, it would probably be better if he weren’t. He could be anyone that he wanted. 

“Schmidt.” 

Damn it, why did  _ that  _ have to be the first name that came to mind?

“Ratchet Azi-Schmidt.” The robot repeated, and Ratchet had to fight the urge to cringe. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” 

He shook his head, amused by the little robot’s formality in spite of his objections. 

Oh well. 

He was used to being ignored. 

“You got a name?”

“My designation number is B542-” Ratchet jerked the wheel, the robot hitting the side of the ship with a loud clank.

“Whoops.” Ratchet offered an apologetic smile to his disgruntled companion. He was sort of thankful for the interruption; he knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to recite all that. “I’ll just call you Clank for short.” 

The little robot nodded, and Ratchet focused on the path ahead, ready to give piloting his full undivided attention. But the moment he saw a comet passing in the distance, he threw himself at the window again. “Woah.” His eyes followed the brilliant blue light. “That’s so cool.”

“The steering mechanism, sir.”

“Again, it’s Ratchet.” He sheepishly bowed his head as he returned to the wheel. “And sorry. I’ve never left the plateau before. First time out in space.” 

“I see.” Clank mused, “Piloting the starfighter was my first flight.”

“Really?” Ratchet shot him a look of disbelief. “You just left home and decided to go on a life changing, ‘save-the-solar-system’ adventure?” 

“I don’t have a home by conventional standards.” Clank replied, his voice monotonous. “I was created in a warbot factory in Quartu, but I escaped shortly after leaving the assembly line. I then crashed into Veldin, where you found me.”

“You mean to tell me you were literally born yesterday?”

“In a sense. I was manufactured only a few hours ago.”

Ratchet shrunk in his seat. That little robot had accomplished more in less than a day than he had in fifteen years. 

At least he was able to finally leave Veldin. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“Well,” He shrugged. “Welcome to Solana, I guess.”

“Welcome to Solana, indeed.”

 

\--

 

Standing at the side door of the garage, Alister wanted nothing more than to turn away and leave. 

But there was nowhere else to go. 

He had left no bush or boulder unturned on the plateau. He had asked every traveller he saw if they had seen his boy. No matter where he went or who he spoke to, he still couldn’t find him. 

The garage was the only place left to go. 

With no other options, Alister knocked on the door and waited.

Met with no reply, he crossed his arms, tapping his fingers impatiently. Morning wouldn’t come for a few more hours, but this was an urgent matter. He began to pound on the door. 

It finally swung open a minute later, revealing a very unamused Grim.

“Where is he?” Alister demanded. 

The fongoid rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Well, hello to you too, Azimuth.”

“This is serious, Grim. Ratchet’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“He’s out of the house.” Grim gave him a look of disbelief. “He doesn’t go anywhere without telling me.” He took a second to reconsider his words. “He doesn’t go anywhere!”

“Kids sneak out all the time. Did you check with any of his friends?” Alister stared at him. “Right.” 

“I can’t afford to waste any more time. I already searched the entire plateau. There’s no sign of Ratchet anywhere.” He sighed, “Do you know where he could be or not?” 

Grim paused, keeping his head low. “I don’t.” He began to close the door, refusing to look at the lombax. “I’m sorry, Azimuth. Goodnight.” 

Unconvinced by his hesitation, Alister placed a firm hand on the door before he could shut it. “Grim.” 

The two stood still for a moment, studying one another. As Alister’s harsh expression faltered, Grim’s eyes drifted back to the floor. He let out a deep breath. “He would talk about leaving Veldin, seeing the galaxy.” 

Alister let his hand fall away, trying to process what he was hearing.

“The kid has a ship- a little crude but still impressive considering he fixed it up himself.” Grim creaked the door open again. “It’s just a pet project he would work on when he wasn’t doing commissions.”

“And you let him?” Alister’s voice rose, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Our line of communication hasn’t exactly been open.” Grim raised his hands in defense. “And that ship was a pipe dream. It doesn’t work. It can’t.”

“The ship can’t work.” Alister repeated slowly, every word coated with skepticism. He let out a bitter chuckle. “You give a lombax a wrench, and they’ll make a ship work, one way or another.”

“It’s missing a crucial component. Something he can't find in Kyzil.”

“And that component would be?”

“A robotic ignition system.”

Alister’s face briefly lit up as the full story came together in his mind. 

“When I searched the plateau, I saw that a starfighter crashed not too far from here.” He narrowed his eyes.“A starfighter from a Blargian  _ robot factory _ .” 

“Oh shit.” 

Grim moved out of the doorway, allowing the Alister in. He followed him to the corner of the garage where he opened up a curtain to find a cleared out workspace. 

Only a crumpled up, empty bag of chips was left behind. 

That was really the only thing that Alister could find solace in. Although it wasn’t the healthiest option, at least the young lombax found the time to eat. 

“How long has he been gone?” Grim asked, the severity of the situation fully settling with him.

“I don't know.” Alister began to pace around. “He shut himself in his room early in the evening, but when I went to check on him a while ago, he was just gone. The way things were left I imagine he climbed out the window, but I’m not sure how long it’s been since he did.” 

“And you said you’ve searched the entire plateau already?”

“I didn't think he would have anywhere else to go.” He gestured towards the empty workspace. “But it seems like I was wrong.” He turned to Grim. “His ship. Is there any way to track it? Get his coordinates?”

He sighed, “I can't track it. But I do have a better idea for you.”

 

\--

 

The Micron was a little slow, but it wasn't half bad for a homemade ship. Although it was taking them much longer to get to their destination than it should have, Ratchet didn’t mind. Clank was adamant on completing his quest as soon as possible, but the young lombax wasn't in any rush. He wanted to savor the moments of his first flight. 

As the ship carried on, he could see they were coming close to a large planet, a blend of greens and blues. According to the coordinates from the infobot, this was exactly where he and Clank needed to go.

“NOVALIS.” The screen on the dashboard read.

“Novalis.” Ratchet repeated, beaming. 

The reality of leaving Veldin was still sinking in. Flying through space felt like a dream, but having a new planet right outside his window reminded him that it was all really happening.

He pressed down on the accelerator, preparing himself to enter Novalis’ orbit.

“You have an incoming call.” Clank suddenly said. 

Ratchet turned to the robot, laughing. “Incoming call? Who would even…” His eyes widened. “Wait! Don’t-” 

But Clank had already accepted, and Alister’s image flickered onto the ship’s screen.

“Ratchet! Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Never better.” He sarcastically replied, sinking in his seat. 

“Good, good!” Alister looked overcome with relief, “I’m so glad that you’re safe.”

Ratchet rolled his eyes. He wasn't even paying attention. 

“Now come on.” The older lombax continued, “Send me your coordinates, and I’ll come get you.”

“You’ll come get me?” Ratchet sat up, unable to believe his ears. 

“Well, I don't expect you to return to Veldin on your own.”

Ratchet scoffed. Even after proving that he could make it out of the Plateau without his help, Alister still insisted on coddling him. He honestly shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I’m staying right here.”

“Fine.” Alister relented after a moment, but he didn’t sound pleased. “You can fly your ship back, but we’re going to talk about this when you get home.”

Ratchet looked away from the screen. “I can’t go back to Veldin.” 

“Ratchet.” Alister warned. “You have to.”

He focused intently on the planet ahead, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m on a mission.” 

“No, you’re not. Turn that ship around.”

“I’m busy.”

“This has gone on long enough.” He raised his voice, his patience dwindling. “You’re coming home  _ now _ .”

“No.”

Alister cocked his head back. “ _ No _ ?” 

“No.” Ratchet repeated, this time with more confidence. A smug grin formed on his face. “I don’t have to. I’m on my own now.”

“It’s too dangerous for you out there.” 

“I made it this far.” 

“There’s no saying what lies ahead. You belong on the plateau where it’s safe.”

“You mean on the plateau where you can yell at me again? Where you can boss me around?”

“I understand that you’re upset, but running away like you did isn't the way to go about it.” Alister pointed a finger at him. “You know better than this!”

“I’m sorry,” Ratchet glared at the screen, “I thought I didn’t know anything.”

“Ratchet, that’s not fair-”

“No.” He snapped. “Telling me what to do all the time isn't fair. Never letting me make my own choices isn’t fair. Having to live with you isn’t fair.” 

Ratchet watched as the anger on Alister’s face turned into shock.  

At that moment, he considered hanging up or breaking the dashboard transmitter so he wouldn’t have to worry about him calling in ever again. 

That was the logical thing to do. 

But telling him off felt so much better. 

Holding his head up high, he tightened his grasp on the wheel. “This is my life. I get to make the decision, and I choose to… oh no.” 

“Ratchet?” Alister came closer to the screen. “Ratchet, what’s wrong?”

“The wheel! It’s stuck!”

“What?”

“I can’t move it!” 

The Micron was getting lower and lower into the planet’s atmosphere. The bright blue and white around them was shifting to green. The lombax looked up from the wheel he was struggling with, and he felt his heart drop.

“Ratchet,” Clank said, “It appears we’re headed towards-”

“A cliff! I think I got that!” He tapped on the breaks. Nothing. He began to stomp on it frantically until…

“The break! It broke!”

“Stay calm! Eject yourself!” Ratchet had never heard Alister sound so frantic. “Just wait there! I’ll come get you! Send me your coordinates now!”

“No!” He insisted, “I can get this thing to work again!”

He gave it a few sharp tugs, and the vessel moved along with it, quivering and quaking. Through all the chaos, he was unable to make out the different buttons and switches around him. Hoping something would work out, he started to frantically press and flip them all. 

After hastily pushing the last button on the panel, The Micron began to spin uncontrollably. Ratchet clung onto the wheel, trying not to slip out of his seat. Trying not to get hit by Clank bumping around the ship.

“Just tell me where you are, Ratchet!” 

“A crash is inevitable-”

“I can do this!” 

In spite of everything, he refused to listen. He refused to back down. And he refused to admit he didn't build an eject button in the first place.

The cliff was drawing near. There was no stopping the ship. The only option was to escape. Preferably with his life.

With a fraction of a plan in his head, he quickly glanced up at the glass hood of the ship. It wouldn't be too hard to break out of.

His ears perked up as he heard the faulty brake scraping against his hoverboots. 

He had an eject button now.

What he was about to do made the stunt he pulled in the outlands seem like child’s play.

Activating his hoverboots, he prepared himself to reach for Clank, who was about to crash into the dashboard.

“You need to eject now!” 

“Perhaps you should listen-”

“Here it comes, Clank!” 

“Ratchet!”

 

\--

 

Static.

“No!” Alister struck the screen with a weak fist. “No.” He sunk to the floor, his head buried in his hands. 

The world around him disappeared. 

Grim, the garage, the plateau.

None of it mattered. 

Everything was gone.

He only heard his own voice, barely a whisper. 

“Ratchet, I’m sorry. Kaden, please forgive me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you take a drink every time Alister says ‘Ratchet’, don't because you will definitely die.
> 
> The crash land into Novalis ain’t so funny now.


End file.
